Dragon Age: Torchwood 1-3: Meat
by Bloodsong 13T
Summary: You never know what form aliens will take...! Some questionable meat leads Torchwood on a rescue mission. Bannon & Zevran go on their first field mission. Will they prove their worth? (Or just get yelled at again?)
1. Mystery Meat

**Mystery Meat  
**

 _CONTENT:_  
Rating: Teen  
Flavor: Drama  
Language: maybe  
Violence: no  
Nudity: none  
Sex: none  
Other: none

 _Author's Note:_

This episode is more of a short collection of scenes that go with the original episode. If you haven't seen the original episode (lately), you might become a bit lost.

* * *

 **Mystery Meat  
**

==#==

The highway was awash in blood. Andy felt his gorge rise at the sight, even before he stepped out of the patrol car and the stench hit him, even before he saw the unidentified chunks of flesh glistening on the pavement.

"A right mess, innit?" PC Travers asked him as he came over. "Don't worry," she added, "it's not human, and it was long dead before it got here. Mostly." She pointed towards the overturned lorry and ambulances. "Driver of the lorry didn't make it. Two other cars involved, some injuries there, but they should pull through."

Andy and Travers headed towards a knot of other PCs who were milling around the back of the lorry. There were several slabs of red meat, the size of packing cases. Their protective wrapping had split open.

"What _is_ that?"

Merrick looked over. "Weird, huh? You'd expect sides of beef, not these... cubes."

"Is it pork?"

"Too red."

"Yeah, but..." Andy's brow wrinkled, trying to picture how you got this cut off a cow. Even the biggest GMO steers, there'd be bones. Ribs at least. "Is it chopped and molded?" He couldn't stand the smell any more and put his sleeve over his nose. "Like spam?"

Merrick shrugged. "The driver didn't have a proper manifest. It just says 'meat.' We don't know what it is."

"What about this firm? 'Harwood's Haulage'?"

"Keane is on the phone to them now." Merrick gave Andy a tip of his head. "You want to ring your pal Gwen?"

"Gwen? What for?"

Travers said, "Well, isn't anything strange and unusual supposed to go through Torchwood?"

Andy gaped. "You _want_ to call Torchwood?" The PCs hated Torchwood. Insufferable louts. "For a traffic accident?"

"They can solve the mystery of the mystery meat," Travers insisted.

"But it's just meat."

Merrick said, "And who d'ya think is gonna have to clean it up?"

Andy looked around. He heard the thump of the ambulance doors, and the warning whoop of the siren as it started to pull out, lights flashing. Cleanup was going to be a dirty job. "I'm not calling Gwen for this," he said. "Go through official channels if you want."

==#==

Half an hour later, the uniforms were still directing traffic. The black Torchwood SUV rolled up and discharged the team.

Inside the truck, Jack prodded the bale of meat with his foot. It was spongy with an even consistency. "No bones," he surmised. And the texture was too uniform to be pressed meat.

There were very few animals on Earth that could yield a solid chunk of meat that size, but Jack knew over a dozen alien species that would fit the bill, and that didn't even cover the infinite number of possibilities he didn't know about. And in Cardiff, they were more likely than an elephant or a whale.

Owen crouched to prod at the meat, and Tosh took photos of the scene, while Gwen looked on.

Owen said, "It's definitely meat, but what kind is anybody's guess. We should pack up one of these to take with us, and get the uniforms to deliver the rest." He stood up and looked around for a bale that wasn't torn open as much. He spied one and moved toward it. "Why didn't we bring along the elves to cart this to the truck?"

"Elven manual labor is racist," Jack reminded him. "And Ianto wanted them for special training." Then he shot a glance at Gwen.

She was already moving to help Owen. "I'll give you a hand."

Tosh retreated to the SUV to upload her photos, so Jack was left to talk to the cops.

He alit from the lorry and strode towards the knot of uniforms. "Captain Jack Harkness. Who's in charge here?"

They all shared a look before one stepped forward. "Sergeant Crewe."

"Good. We need all this meat gathered up and brought to our storage facility." He didn't bother waiting for a 'yes, sir' or other acknowledgement. The cops hated Torchwood, but they had to do their job. The collective mutterings of 'Bloody Torchwood' and other epithets at least let him know they got the message.

==#==

Ianto had the elves down in the sub-basement laundry room, where Torchwood had its industrial washers and dryers. Elven labor might be racist, but they could at least do their own laundry. If Ianto was lucky, he'd have some help with the rest of the laundering, too. Well, he could hope.

Bannon and Ianto were standing at the folding table, sorting the linens. Zevran had volunteered to go fetch another cart full of laundry from the Hub. He was probably taking the opportunity to shirk, Ianto was pretty sure.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked Bannon. "Something personal, I mean."

The elf shrugged. "Sure."

"It's just that... Well, I know it's none of my business, but... you and Zevran. You're together, right? I mean, in a relationship."

"Yeah."

"A... sexual relationship," Ianto clarified.

Bannon became defensive. "So?"

"No, no; I don't mean anything by it. I'm just curious. You two have an open relationship, right? I was wondering how that works."

"Oh." The elf relaxed again, and set down his towel. "Well, both of us like women. Neither one of us is a woman, so if we want that kind of action, we have to go elsewhere."

"That makes sense," Ianto said slowly. But Jack was no woman. "But... Zevran and Jack...? And you're not... jealous? Worried? Angry, even?"

"Naah." Bannon went back to folding towels.

"But... just how? Most people get really uptight when the person they're sleeping with goes and has sex with someone else."

Bannon thought about it a bit. "Well, the thing is... that thing about getting women, it's just what I tell everybody. The truth is... Zevran needs to seduce people. I knew if I tried to stop him when we got together that I would lose him. He... It was how he's trained, but he needs that power, that freedom." He shrugged.

"So that was part and parcel of Zevran, that you accepted."

"Yeah."

Interesting. It was part of Jack as well, part of what made him who he was. Could Ianto accept that? "You're never worried he'll... move on? Find someone better? Lose interest?"

"Naah."

"Really?" Ianto still couldn't fathom it.

Bannon turned to him, his dark eyes serious. "Zevran loves me," he said. "Sex has nothing to do with it. It never has."

"Oh." Their relationship was built on something else entirely. Something Ianto didn't have with Jack. He frowned. "I see."

Bannon tipped his head, flipping a lock of long hair out of his eyes. "Are you and Jack...?"

"What? No. I mean... not like that. We... dabble. Occasionally." Ianto walked over to check the dryer. "We haven't... you know." He waved his hand vaguely. "Gone all the way."

The elf just looked at him, confused.

"You know?"

Headshake.

"I mean... penetrative sex." Ianto hoped he didn't have to draw a picture. "Not that other sex isn't real sex," he was quick to add. "But, just... you don't really need all this TMI, I'm sure."

"Tea am I?"

"'Too Much Information.' That happens when someone starts getting too detailed about their personal lives."

"Hmmm."

Ianto looked at Bannon. "You... didn't really want to hear all the gory details of my sexual escapades with Jack, did you?"

"Ugh, no!"

"There we go then: TMI." He opened the dryer door. "Let's carry on then, shall we?"

== _X_ ==


	2. We Love Meat!

**We Love Meat!**

 _CONTENT:_  
Rating: Teen  
Flavor: Adventure/Drama  
Language: maybe?  
Violence: no  
Nudity: none  
Sex: none  
Other: no no no, that was the other story. sorry!

 _Author's Note:_

Zevran and/or Jack fans get your mind out of the gutter about the title... oh well, never mind ;P

 _Recap:_

Some odd, unidentifiable meat splattered across the highway from a crashed delivery truck has brought Torchwood into investigate the potentially extraterrestrial origin of this... food substance?

* * *

 **We Love Meat!**

==#==

"Ianto, help Owen get this sample to the med bay." Jack handed out orders back at the Hub. "Santa's Little Helpers, get the loading bay ready for a bigger, messier delivery. Tosh, contact the trucking company, see what you can find out from them. Look up 'Harwood's Haulage.'"

Gwen blinked. "That's Rhys' firm," she blurted. Everyone looked at her, and Gwen suddenly felt like the girl at the prom with something seriously wrong with her dress. Though Ianto kept his expression blank, she could feel the judgement behind his eyes. Jack's was more shuttered, which only made it worse.

Tosh looked away awkwardly, turning from her keyboard to pick up her phone. "What's the number, then?"

Gwen set her jaw. It wasn't as if Rhys had done anything. He lived in Cardiff; things in Cardiff affected him, just like anybody else. It was a coincidence, that's all. Not like Bilis targetting him to get to her. She shoved thoughts of the demon aside and fished her phone out to get Rhys' work number. "He only assigns the drivers," she said defensively in the heavy silence.

She handed the phone to Tosh, who punched the number in on her own mobile, then identified herself as a police officer on the line.

Gwen moved away to give her a bit of space to work. Jack listened in on it, in case he wanted to add anything. But Tosh knew her job.

Gwen focused on putting her phone back in her pocket. She felt she should be doing this job, but that was ridiculous. Rhys would know her voice. Besides, Tosh had been doing this long before Gwen had arrived on the team.

Tosh did a thorough impersonation of a competent officer. She'd jotted down some notes, then looked up at the captain and Gwen. "There wasn't a lot of useful information," she said slowly. Then added, "They seemed pretty evasive."

Jack thought a moment, then looked Gwen in the eye. "You may want to recuse yourself from this investigation."

"What? No. Whatever is going on, Rhys is innocent."

"You're sure you can remain objective?"

"I'm a highly-trained police officer. I can do my job." Gwen turned away and gathered up her things. "We don't know anything yet. I'll go home and check on Rhys at lunch." She slung her purse up onto her shoulder.

"Good," said Jack. "Check out his story."

"That's not what I meant," she bit out. She walked away, trying to quell her irritation. Jack was just doing his job. Being paranoid. She mustn't take it personally.

She would straighten everyone out.

==#==

"When's lunch?" Owen called from the entrance of the med bay.

Ianto cocked his head towards the tourist shop security monitor. "In... three... two... and pizza is here!" The delivery girl appeared on the screen and pressed the buzzer.

"You _are_ Radar," Jack commented cryptically.

"Great," said Owen. "I'm starved! Whatcha get?"

"Meat feast!" said Ianto with a smile.

Which vanished about as fast as Owen's appetite.

==#==

"It's your standard, carbon-based meat. There's no reason why it can't be digestible by human beings." With a frown of distaste and annoyance, Owen picked scraps of 'meat' off his pizza slice. He tossed them into the lid of the box. "Tox came back negative. The DNA is off the charts, so no results on that. There's above-average salinity, which could indicate marine creatures. Can't really tell much more than that, without seeing a live one."

He stopped and stared at the two elves who, like a pair of seagulls, were snatching up all the meat bits he tossed aside and piling them on their own pizza. "You're not going to eat that?" he asked them incredulously.

"Why not?" Bannon said. "You just said it was fine."

"But... it's _alien_ meat. Who in their right mind would-? Oh, what am I saying?" He threw his hands up in surrender.

Zevran popped a piece of meat into his mouth. "Mmm... delicious. It is much better than rat meat."

Bannon shoved a large meaty chunk of pizza into his mouth, and Owen tried not to lose his appetite. Again.

Tosh ventured, "You've probably already eaten some." Owen gave her a narrow look. "I mean, we all have. This wasn't the first delivery, so it's already been out there. In burgers, pasties..."

"Not helping, Tosh."

Ianto asked her, "Are you going to eat it?" He eyed the tech dubiously.

She frowned at her portion. "Perhaps not."

"We'll take it!" the elves volunteered.

 _Meanwhile, in a different part of the multiverse..._

 _A slim woman with long midnight hair and gleaming yellow eyes stopped and tipped her head. With a sigh, she rolled her eyes and inexplicably said, "The Gravy Wardens strike again!"_

==#==

 _That was a disaster_ , Gwen thought as she left their flat. Keeping things from Rhys had never been so hard. Why did he ask her so many pointed questions about the accident? Why couldn't she remember his friend and employee? She felt bad enough already.

 _It's the stress of this damned job._ With no way to let off steam, no one to talk to about it all...

Then there was Jack. Why was he so quick to suspect Rhys? He didn't know Rhys! She knew him; had done for years. Rhys wouldn't do something shady. He was a good bloke.

She wished she could be a better partner for him.

Never mind her being 'too close' to the case. She didn't need to stand down or recuse herself. She'd face facts, and the facts right now did not say anything to make her believe Rhys was guilty. He couldn't be.

Not unless he'd changed - and hadn't Owen said he hadn't? He _was_ her Rhys.

==#==

Back at the Hub, Gwen met Jack. With the scant information Rhys had been able to give Tosh over the phone about the mystery meat client, they'd traced the prior shipments and narrowed down the facility where the beasts were most likely kept. Ianto and Owen had gone on ahead to scout it out.

Gwen felt a great sense of relief. They could once and for all find out who was involved and stop them - and clear Rhys' name. She'd reported to Jack that he did not seem to know anything about the shipment contents. He had taken her at her word, relieving even more of her worry. This would be a job like any other, and they'd see it through as always.

Jack offered her his arm as if they were going to a fancy ball. A lighthearted laugh surprised her as she took it and leaned into him. He was always a constant in the universe.

Which reminded her. He was from a distant time and place. "Have you ever eaten alien meat?" she asked in curiosity.

"Yep."

"Was it all right?"

"Well, he seemed to enjoy it," Jack said with a devilish grin.

Gwen had to laugh, mostly at herself for walking into that one.

She didn't notice a familiar spy. Neither of them noticed the tail. Why would they? They were Torchwood - all but invisible. They hunted aliens, they were never the hunted.

==#==

Ianto talked them in to the side lot of the remote warehouse. Gwen and Jack got out and prepared to enter, but had to duck back as another car pulled in.

Gwen's heart froze when Rhys got out of the car.

== _X_ ==


	3. The Truth Comes Out

**The Truth Comes Out**

 _CONTENT:  
_ Rating: Teen  
Flavor: Drama/Adventure  
Language: maybe?  
Violence: none  
Nudity: none  
Sex: none  
Other: none

 _Recap:_

Owen and Ianto are at the remote warehouse where the alien meat is coming from; Jack and Gwen go to catch up with them, but stop as a familiar figure gets out of his car to meet the guys responsible.

* * *

 **The Truth Comes Out**

==#==

 _Rhys!_ Three men came out of the warehouse to meet him. Jack hit his comms. "Abort! Abort!" The place wasn't empty!

Gwen headed out around the corner of the building as if to march on over to Rhys and his cohorts. Jack grabbed her arm and dragged her back. " _Gwen!_ " he hissed in alarm.

"He's in trouble. I have to-"

Jack snatched her back, shoved her against the rough concrete wall. "He's one of them!" He pinned her with his body. "Rhys is in on it."

She opened her mouth to argue, to yell. He pressed closer, put his fingers over her mouth. They stood a moment, eye to eye, hearts thumping, breathing hard. He could see the pain in her eyes, the anguish of betrayal. He should have felt an empathetic pain, but all he felt was a glimmer of hope. She'd be free of Rhys.

He looked away, ashamed, and released her. Had his mistrust of Rhys stemmed from jealousy? He was not immune to such feelings, he'd found.

They turned to see what was going on. Yes, Rhys was chatting with the men. Then one patted him on the shoulder like old mates, and they headed inside, all smiles. Rhys must be hooking them up with another driver.

As awful as it was, Jack couldn't help but feel elated. He had been right, Rhys was crooked, and it wasn't some jealous fantasy. He still felt like an incredible heel.

"Come on," he said to Gwen, not touching her, not daring to. "We have to get out of here."

"Not 'til I know he's safe."

Jack tapped his comms. "Rhys is in with them. We have to stand down." Ianto and Owen would vacate the premises. He just had to get Gwen to go along. "We'll wait until he comes out, but we have to get in the car."

He was afraid Gwen would insist that they were killing Rhys in there, but she went with him, silent, face locked down.

They sat in awkward silence for several minutes. Jack didn't dare try to comfort her. Eventually, Rhys came out of the building, got in his car and drove off. Gwen's haunted eyes followed.

After he was sure the others were not coming out of the facility, he started up the SUV and headed back to the Hub.

==#==

Jack had given her another chance to recuse herself from the case. A clinical way of saying she could stand back and let them apprehend Rhys, drag him down to the Vault like some criminal, do God-knows-what to him... No. She would handle it. She was not a scared little girl; she'd face up to her responsibilities.

The argument, the flat-out shouting match, had topped any row they'd ever had. But now that it was over, Gwen felt relieved. A thorn finally removed from her side. It had been there so long, she'd almost gotten used to it. She hadn't realized how much it ached, how much it restricted her movements.

The truth will set you free.

==#==

Rhys felt as if a thorn had been plucked from his side. He'd thought his relationship with Gwen was going down in flames. The great love of his life, sneaking off, seeing men, lying about her job, hiding things from him - like that fancy dress. Where'd that come from then? A gift from one of her 'admirers'?

It all went to shit when she started claiming it was aliens. Aliens in Cardiff; Rhys, I catch aliens. first she didn't have the decency to break it off proper, then she had to wreck it with these stupid lies.

Only...

They got out of the car at the Plas and crossed to the fountain. "Where are we going, Gwen?"

"This is where I work."

He scowled, looking at the empty Plas. Why was he here? Did he really think there was some magical explanation for it all?

"C'mon." Gwen beckoned him to stand beside her on the kerb, her face so hopeful, encouraging, like she used to be at uni.

Rhys resigned himself to see this through, or else he'd never _know_. What if Gwen seriously needed help? If she'd gone off the deep end, someone should notify... somebody.

She took his arm, much more naturally than she had done with that bloke in the coat. "We're ready," she said.

Then the ground moved, and Rhys found himself entering a wonderland beneath the Plas, hidden beneath the feet of the everyday crowds. It was like some grand theme park ride, though his pragmatic Welsh nature was certain the railless elevator platform was in no wise up to safety standards. But it was like a tube station turned bomb shelter turned castle dungeon turned sci-fi command center turned Frankenstein's lair. It even had one of those animatronic things, a flying dinosaur. It looked so real. Astounded, he mentioned it to Gwen. She just smiled indulgently at him.

Aliens... could it be true?

Rhys wasn't half so elated to meet Gwen's co-workers. The bloke with the coat was the 'captain,' some sort of American movie star. There was a doctor, with the sly look of a professional puller, diamond stud glittering in his ear; a pair of long-haired guys who were way too pretty; and a nattily-dressed young man with curly hair, apple cheeks, and cute nose. The last was a shy Asian woman, some sort of tech expert.

After brusque introductions, Captain Coattails was in his face, yelling at him for mucking around in their affairs and bollixing up their mission. As if Gwen hiding things from him wasn't his business. Rhys got his Welsh back up and gave as good as he got.

To which the smarmy captain only said, "Wow, this is getting homoerotic."

Homo- _What!?_

Then they started going on about their mission as if he weren't there. How many creatures were in the slaughter house? What kind? How would they move them?

"Well, it's only the one," he told them.

They looked at him incredulously. "You saw it?" the captain asked. "What did you see?"

 _An alien._ He hadn't known, had he? He felt as if he was on that invisible lift again. It could have been... something. Some mutation. Some Godzilla thing.

The doctor said, "The heat signature took up the whole fifty meter length of the building."

"How could they get something that big in there in the first place?" the mousey computer girl asked. "Without anyone noticing?"

Rhys found his tongue. "Maybe it wasn't that big when they found it. They said it just keeps growing."

"Is growing?" the suit asked. "It's still alive?"

"Yeah."

"And they're cutting it up?" The computer geek looked ill.

The captain swooped in with, "What we need is a new plan to take down this operation. With Nosey Parker here swanning in out of the blue, they may have beefed up security." He glared at Rhys.

Rhys glared right back. "Well, you're in luck, since this Nosey Parker has a deal with them to pick up a shipment tomorrow."

That shut the captain's mouth. Then he turned, barked "Team meeting!" and Gwen parked Rhys on the couch for a bit.

And then, just like that... he was on the team.

== _X_ ==


	4. Operation Meatwagon

**Operation Meatwagon**

 _CONTENT:_  
Rating: Teen  
Flavor: Action/Adventure/SciFi  
Language: yes  
Violence: yes  
Nudity: none  
Sex: none  
Other: none

 _Author's Note:_

Yes, this is going to change it up from the show a bit, although most of the scenes that remain the same are glossed over. Hope you remember them. If not - time for a rewatch!

Apologies for the crappy/stupid title. I once more state my general horribleness with names and titles!

also: See Endnotes.

* * *

 **Operation Meatwagon**

==#==

"Are we sure we want to involve the elves?" Gwen asked. "No offense, Bannon and Zevran, but you're quite new at this."

"Hardly," Zevran scoffed.

"Are we sure we want elves with guns?" Ianto interjected.

"Yes," said Jack. "And yes."

Ianto nodded with an air of resignation and filled out the paperwork assigning the firearms. Jack handed each elf a 9mm and a shoulder holster. "Safeties on, and they stay on," he reminded them. "These are for self defense, only to be used as a last resort."

They nodded and mumbled assent, but he noted they handled the equipment with proper respect.

To his senior team, he outlined the assignment. "Rhys will get us in there, then clear out. Owen and Ianto, you'll do a sweep through the smaller rooms. Apprehend anyone and everyone, using stunners, tranqs, and handcuffs. Tosh, Gwen, and I will secure the creature. Bannon, Zevran, you two will cover the perimeter, make sure there are no surprises. Keep in touch on the comms. Ianto?"

Ianto finished helping the elves set up their holsters, then turned and presented them with earpieces. "This is the lever to switch between push-to-talk and always on. Do not use the always on setting unless instructed to keep the comms open. This is the button you push to talk." He handed them the comms, then demonstrated with his own unit. "Now, it goes over your ear like this... Adjust the angle of the mic. Then you go like this when you need to talk to us." He reached up and pressed the button.

Zevran put his on, tipping his head and fussing with the ear hook like a cat with tape stuck on its head. Bannon frowned and seemed to be having trouble as well.

"Here." Ianto moved to help them, but was interrupted by Jack.

"Uh, Ianto..."

Ianto looked over. The captain pointed to his ear and shook his head. Ianto backed off and let Bannon fix the earpieces, wondering what that was all about.

The elf got himself and Zevran situated. It would probably take them a bit of getting used to. Then Bannon said, "Wait, so to talk, you have to go like this?" He reached up with his right hand and pressed the button.

"That's correct," said Ianto.

"So you can't talk and aim your gun at the same time?"

Ianto blinked. "Uhm..." He looked at the rest of the team. They were all looking at each other. How had it never come up? Using one's right hand to hold a weapon and to use the comms. "This model is reversible," he said to the elf, "if you want to wear it on your left ear." He took his off, the same model, and showed the elves how to reverse it. Then he put it on.

Bannon and Zevran took theirs off and readjusted to the left ear. And so did everyone else.

==#==

 _"You're not gay by any chance, are you?"_

Jack replayed the drive with Rhys as he sat now in the back of the truck. Tosh had a hand light, and Bannon had 'acquired' a pack of cards from somewhere. They weren't playing for stakes, only to pass the time in the dark cargo box. Jack had sat out. Gwen was too worried to play.

Jack hadn't answered Rhys's rather probing question. He'd only smirked inwardly to himself at the man's insecurity. Really, what did a man like Rhys have to offer women, compared to Jack? The handsome, dashing, adventurous, risque, captain of a secret organization.

 _"Here you go, luv; I know you get peckish. It's your favorite!"_

Jack hadn't thought much of Rhys's secretary going all mother-hen on him, giving him a bag lunch with his favorite pastry. Until Gwen had come by with the exact same routine, the exact same favorite snack, this one accompanied by a peck on the cheek.

Rhys had looked utterly embarrassed, shooting a desperate look at Jack, pleading with him not to say anything. He kept his mouth shut, snickering inwardly. Who said Rhys didn't have women wrapped around his little finger?

Ah, but a mothering response to his teddy bear cuteness wasn't what most men wanted from women, was it? Jack shook his head at himself. Why wouldn't Gwen want a proper, plain man, good stability in a relationship? It wasn't as if her day job was safe and steady. She needed that rock, that solid foundation.

Of course, she also needed the action, the frisson of danger. That's what Jack could give her. And if she wanted to settle down in her older years ( _If she survives_ , a traitorous voice reminded him), he could be in a position to do that. He'd settled down before, when he met the right woman. Raised a family, at least until it became... well, awkward. But he was the all-around better match for her than Rhys.

Jack shook his head at himself. He wasn't the type of person who broke up couples when he fancied one or the other, not any more. If Gwen chose Rhys, he had to honor her wishes, to be a better man. Maybe she would come around. Could Rhys last against the rigors of Torchwood life? Jack was more suited to playing the long game.

He could afford to wait.

==#==

The infiltration had gone off without a hitch.

Jack held his gun at the ready, Gwen backing him up as they traversed the maze of rooms, looking for the alien. Tosh divided her attention with her PDA, keeping their bearings.

They met no one, which Jack thought was not only odd, but worrisome. Where were they? Out having a smoke?

The three entered the cavernous storage area. The giant beast was impossible to miss, but Jack focused on locating any human threat. He had some nice handcuffs for them, a bit of Retcon.

There were pallets and crates, assorted boxes and barrels stacked along the wall. Guy wires, bolted to the floor, stretched up and over the bulk of the alien, which reached halfway to the rafters. Its head was facing the door, resting on the ground, the eyes at the sides closed. Was it dead? The team edged closer.

"Stay alert," Jack reminded them. As the bulk of the alien loomed, it demanded their attention. As they drew near, Jack could tell the creature was indeed breathing. As it exhaled, he heard a low whine from within the vast skull. Almost as if the creature had a deviated septum, but Jack recognized it for what it was... a whimpering.

Then a more human sound reached them - someone whistling a tune. It approached from the corridor between the creature's flank and the rows of boxes. Jack flicked a look at Gwen and Tosh, and they all ducked into hiding.

The carefree whistling slowly drew closer, until finally they caught sight of a man wheeling a barrow full of piled slabs of glistening fresh meat. They were the size of the bales from the lorry, cut all of a piece.

Jack put his sleeve over his mouth and nose as the man walked past. He signalled Tosh and Gwen to let the man go. They had to check the rest of the area. They waited until the door slammed shut behind the butcher.

==#==

Owen and Ianto went from room to room, methodically doing their part to round up this ring of butchers. They burst into the next room, guns at the ready, checking for perpetrators. This one was empty also, save for a few sets of shelves with jars and boxes. Owen so the logo of a veterinary supply company, a manufacturer of ketamine - this was the dispensary.

"All right, I have all I need...," he said, holstering his sidearm and darting to pick up an industrial-sized injector. "To put this baby to sleep."

"I'll continue the sweep," Ianto said.

"Be careful."

Ianto left, and Owen began to gather his resources. Only to find that all the boxes of ketamine - box after box - were empty.

 _Balls,_ he thought. His eyes darted over the bottles of chemical agents. "Well, if we can't tranq it, a mercy killing may be our only option." He didn't like it, but he didn't think about it. He just began mixing.

==#==

Jack, Gwen, and Tosh moved out of hiding, and traversed the length of the alien. The butcher had come from here, but where had he gotten the meat? Rhys said the men told him they were cutting the alien, but how? Did it have vestigial limbs they were cutting off or something? Fins maybe, or tentacles? Something it could regenerate over and over, so the butchers could keep harvesting it.

What they found was worse.

A pool of blood sperad out from what could only be described as a cave - a cave of meat, cut right into the creature's side. A red room big enough to walk into and stand upright. Room enough to swing a hatchet. Like a quarry, the walls showed squared-off edges where blocks had been cut away. It was lit with worklights suspended on hooks, jammed directly into the flesh overhead, as if it were mere wooden rafters and not living tissue.

Jack swallowed his gorge, amazed that the creature wasn't bleeding out. He tried to imagine a corresponding wound on a human, and failed.

"Oh my- _guh!_ " Tosh bolted away to quietly be sick. Gwen paled, but held her ground.

A faint vibration travelled through the floor and up through Jack's boots. It rose in intensity and registered as sound, a low, drawn-out moan. He backed away and looked towards the tail for more of the men. All he saw was more of the creature, secured with guy wires that cut so deep, the rough brown skin had grown over and all but absorbed them. Another warbling moan echoed through the chamber.

He looked back, and met Gwen's eyes. "We'll get them," she said encouragingly.

"Yeah."

Tosh rejoined them, eyes a bit moist, jaw set.

Jack didn't think there was anyone else here, but he didn't want to get sloppy and take chances. And just maybe, he could find a cattle prod he could use to help these bastards take the Retcon.

==#==

Ianto activated his comm, keeping his gun held forward with his other hand. "Owen's found tranquilizers for the creature. We've finished the sweep of the north side of the building. We haven't found anyone, but..." He tilted his head, peering at the next door. "Judging from the smell, I've found the abattoir. I'm going in."

 _Some days, I hate this job._ He twisted the knob and shoved the door open with one foot, bracing himself for the wall of stench that inevitably flooded out of the blood-stained room. "Hold it! Drop your weapon!"

There was a man here, hacking at a slab of meat, his hands, cap, and apron stained rust. He froze, one hand upraised, a meat cleaver in it. He got a speculative look in his eye.

"Don't even think about it," Ianto growled.

The butcher deflated, lowered the blade to the table.

"Turn 'round. Put your hands behind-"

 _WHAM!_

==#==

Jack, Tosh, and Gwen found themselves back at the head of the creature.

"What have they done to you?" Jack breathed. Its cry was beautiful, like the songs of whales, and soul-wrenchingly lonely. He felt hot tears pricking his eyes. "Tied up, drugged, and tortured. Welcome to Earth," he said bitterly.

The vast eyelid parted, revealing the dark glossy orb. The Torchwood team saw themselves reflected in it.

"It can see us," Tosh whispered. They eye shifted minutely to center on her. "It hears us," she added, with part wonder and part trepidation.

Jack stepped closer, placed his palm against the warm rough skin. Tiny comfort was all he could offer.

"Do you recognize it?" Tosh asked him.

He shook his head. "There are similar species. Pelagic, or even space-faring."

The alien cried again, a higher pitch, so desperate, so hopeless.

"It's empathic," Jack said, taking a breath and trying not to get caught up in the waves of emotion pouring from the creature.

"Is it sentient?" Gwen asked.

Jack turned and glared at her. "Why, because it's all right to do such a thing to a dumb animal?"

She flinched. "No, I-"

Jack turned and stalked for the door. He stopped when he heard a commotion from that direction. It sounded like Rhys, yelling, then the door slammed open. Jack darted back and took cover, Tosh as well. Gwen positioned herself behind a crate with a better vantage point. She had her gun out.

So did the man holding Rhys. "I've got your getaway driver! Now come on out!"

"I'm tellin' ya, you're talking to air," Rhys babbled. "There's no one else!"

"Shut up!"

The creature made a low noise, and the guy wires creaked as it shifted its weight.

"I know someone's here! Come out now, or this bloke's head comes off!" He cocked the gun and put it to Rhy's temple.

Jack tried to see if there was a way around to catch the man on his blind side, but the alien was in the way, trapping them in this narrow corridor. Perhaps he could sacrifice himself for Rhys, distract the man and draw his fire.

Too late. Gwen called out, "All right! Don't shoot!" Quickly, she stuffed her gun in the back of her waistband and stepped out into view, her hands up.

Jack hoped her devotion to Rhys didn't get either one of them killed. He crouched further into his hiding place, cupped his hand over his comm. "Tosh, head back and circle the creature if you can without being seen. Ianto, Owen, we're pinned in the holding room. Bannon, Zevran, keep the other men from converging on us." Weren't the elves supposed to be holding the perimeter? How did they let Rhys get nabbed? No one answered the comm; Jack had to trust his team was doing what they could.

"How many of you are there?" the manager was grilling Gwen.

"No one." She edged forward meekly, pasting a silly smile on her face. "Look, he's me boyfriend; he told me about the monster and I just wanted a little looksee, yeah? Who'd believe such a thing? Where'd ya get it?"

The manager frowned, a bit flustered. "We told you not to tell anyone," he growled at Rhys.

"I was drunk, mate, all right? And she's very... persuasive."

"Look," Gwen continued, "it was just a lark, right? I won't be tellin' anyone else. There's no need to shoot us."

"I _am_ really sorry," Rhys added. "it won't happen again, I swear. I'll get your shipment delivered on time, but we got to go now, mate."

For a split second, it seemed the manager might just buy their story and let them go. Then the door crashed open again, and Ianto stumbled in, shoved by two more of the men: the butcher with a knife, and a weasely fellow with a gun. Ianto caught his balance and straightened.

The manager snarled. "Just you, then? Where are the rest of you?"

The creature stirred again, making the wires thrum. Perhaps it sensed what Jack was about to do.

He stepped out into sight, his gun levelled. "We are Torchwood," he barked. "You are under arrest of the illegal detainment of an alien. Drop your weapons!" He aimed for the leader of the group, his hands steady despite the fact he didn't have a clear shot.

"Bollocks!" the manager snapped. "There's no such thing as Torchwood!"

"Oh, really?" said Jack, truly surprised. "I notice you didn't say anything about _aliens_ not existing."

The butcher looked over at his boss in confusion. The other gunman was either stupider or just didn't care. "Learn to count, asshole. We out-gun you. _You_ drop it!"

"Not happening!" Jack re-sighted on him, and couldn't miss the bob of Ianto's throat as he swallowed. He hoped his affection for Ianto didn't get either one of them killed, either.

Gwen started to reach for her gun, but as soon as her arms dropped, the manager jammed his gun harder against Rhys' skull. "Hands _up_ , girlie!"

"What are we gonna do?" the butcher asked in desperation.

"We can't stop now," the manager insisted.

"Agreed," the weasel said. "No one can know about this operation."

"Shoot them!"

"No!" Jack's desperate scream was echoed by Gwen's. Then two gunshots rang through the chamber. Ianto and Rhys staggered forward, Ianto to his knees, while their captors jerked back, each with a blood red bloom centered perfectly on their left eye - _what?_ \- and fell.

The butcher stared, dumbfounded, for the next split second. Then rage twisted his face and he raised the knife with murderous intent. Jack aimed his gun. "Stop!"

Another gunshot boomed, and the butcher was felled like a steer.

Movement to Jack's left caught his attention. The creature was rolling slightly in its bonds, and above, two lithe figures sprinted along its back.

The elves leapt down, Zevran crowing, "Hah, that's two for me!"

"We are _not_ competing for points!"

"Says the loser."

The two moved towards the door, guns held ready for any more targets.

"Stand down!" Jack yelled at them. He holstered the Webley and moved forward to Ianto, while Rhys ran to Gwen and nearly knocked her over with an embrace.

Jack's words were nearly drowned by a sudden roar from the alien. It thrashed against its bonds, rearing up and snapping the steel wire over its neck.

"Look out!"

With incredible speed for its bulk, the creature swung its head towards the people nearest to it. Jack surged forward; Rhys shoved Gwen away, then was slammed into a pile of crates. Ianto rolled aside; Jack bounced off the creature's hide and fell beside him. Somewhere in the depths of the warehouse, Tosh screamed.

The beast roared.

"Owen," Jack yelled into the comms. "It's going berserk!" He felt Ianto tug his arm and saw the great eye above him. He rolled away, but the massive neck landed on his trailing coat and kept flowing towards him.

"Jack!" Ianto tugged him in vain. He was running out of coat and desperately tried to twist out of it.

Then the creature suddenly changed direction. Zevran landed next to Jack, his sword out and bloodlust in his eyes. He raised the blade, hellbent on stabbing into the creature's brain through the eye socket and slaying such a mighty beast.

Jack pulled himself upright with Ianto's help, then grabbed the elf's sword arm.

"What are you doing?" Zevran snapped at him.

Hot rage flooded Jack at the elf's careless disregard for life - human or otherwise. "We are here to save this alien! Not slaughter it!" He jerked Zevran aside, shoved Ianto towards the scant cover of the pallets and crates as the creature twisted back towards them.

More guy lines snapped, tension whipping torn bolts up towards the skylights, smashing the glass, clanging against the steel rafters. Wood snapped, metal barrels toppled and imploded under the beast's weight. The tiny members of Torchwood, wriggled away from the carnage, but there was only so far they could go before they met the concrete wall.

" _Owen, where's that tranq?_ "

==#==

The captain's voice was desperate. Owen could hear the beast rampaging from here. The whole damned building shook. "Dammit." With no other choice, he grabbed the injector full of poison.

As he turned for the door, a young man burst in, and they nearly collided. The kid yelped and dropped the armload of duffels he was carrying. Boxes spilled out, white boxes clearly stolen from veterinary supplies.

"Wh-Wh-Wh-What?" the kid stammered.

"Never mind that! Fill up these injectors with the ketamine!" Owen tossed the killshot aside and grabbed another cylinder, while the kid fumbled boxes out of his bags. "Hurry!" he aded needlessly as the walls shook again and the creature's roar filled the air.

==#==

Owen followed the kid on a sprint through the maze. They burst through a door and Owen's feet stuttered to a stop. Nothing could have prepared him for the sheer _size_ of the thing. The industrial-sized injector heavy in his hands suddenly seemed woefully inadequate.

An eye the size of a car turned towards them. The kid darted forward in a panic to tranquilize the monster. It bent, toothless maw agape, and swallowed him whole.

Owen stood frozen for another moment, a manic portion of his brain wondering if swallowing the ketamine like a metal-clad pill would affect the creature at all. Then he noted the eyes were on the sides of its head, and in... grazing on one of its captors, its blind nose was directly in front of him.

He darted forward as quietly as he could and jabbed the injector into the soft flesh between its wide nostrils. The nose must have been very sensitive, for the creature squealed and reared back. Owen realized the injector had no time to empty, so he recklessly ran forward and jabbed it into the exposed throat, pushing in the plunger as hard and fast as he could.

If the tranq worked too fast, he could end up with the multi-tonne mass collapsing on him in a stupor. Or, hell, it could just squash him like a bug either way.

"Come on, baby, nap time! You'll feel much better, I promise!"

== _X_ ==

* * *

Endnotes:

Okay, I know the 'Jack/Ianto/Janto soulmates Twue Wuv forever and ever' fans are probably throwing things at me. Now, now! Settle down! Yes, I know Jack didn't say/think about Ianto and/or their relationship while he was contemplating poaching Gwen from Rhys. It's my understanding, and my headcanon (and perforce DA:TW canon) that Jack and Ianto aren't serious at this point. YET. I didn't say 'never'! Just YET.

So. Yes. You'll have to twist in the wind a while before we get there. You still want to throw things, please feel free, now. Don't damage your computer/phone/monitor/tablet/whatever. :P


	5. Coda

**Coda**

 _CONTENT:_  
Rating: Teen  
Flavor: Action/Adventure/SciFi  
Language: yes  
Violence: yes  
Nudity: none  
Sex: none  
Other: none

 _Author's Note:_

Okay, DONE. I may be unhappy with some bits about it, but DONE. Another episode in the can (the FILM can, not the trash can!)

* * *

 **Coda**

==#==

While Owen patched up Tosh and Rhys under Gwen's watchful eye, Jack herded Bannon and Zevran into the conference room. "You two, turn in your sidearms - and that includes any 'extras' and ammo you stole," he added, glaring at Bannon. "I gave specific orders that we were to capture these people - alive."

Zevran said, "We saved your asses."

"No, you put everyone in danger-"

" _In_ danger!?" Bannon protested.

"I told you," Jack insisted, "These guns were only for self defense."

"For defense?" Bannon scoffed. "Then you should have given us shields, not weapons."

Well, that was a point. Why did he think medieval warriors could handle guns responsibly?

Ianto entered with the coffee tray. Zevran turned to him. "Did you totally miss the part where we saved your asses? You had a gun to your head, you should be grateful, no?"

The office manager brought his cart to a halt. "It's not that I'm not grateful - I am; thank you," he inserted diplomatically. "But the fact is, when someone is shot, they may tense up, making their finger squeeze the trigger."

"So, no," Jack added, "You _don't_ shoot the guy holding the gun to your ally's head. Furthermore, there were two of them. When you shoot one, his buddy is likely to start shooting back. You guys were only lucky you managed to hit them at about the same time."

"Lucky?" said Bannon. "That wasn't luck. We're Grey Wardens. Of course we can shoot them at exactly the same time."

"How?" asked Ianto.

Zevran said, "Is a Grey Warden thing."

Jack frowned. It seemed there was more to this Grey Warden job than... just a job. "No, seriously, how?"

The elves glanced at each other. Then Bannon said, "Besides sensing darkspawn, Grey Wardens can sense each other. Like where they are, what they're doing. What they're going to do."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Great, more cheaters at Hide and Seek."

"You should see us trying to play Rock/Paper/Shears," Zevran commented.

"So," Bannon said straight to Jack, "we didn't make any mistakes, and we did save your asses. So we keep the guns."

"No. It was a mistake to give weapons to people whose first impulse in a situation is to attack and kill the enemy."

"Nonsense!" Zevran protested. "Bannon always comes up with a brilliant plan to distract and confuse the enemy."

"Well...," his partner hedged.

"All right," the blond admitted, "unless a silent sneak attack would be more devastating."

"My point exactly," said Jack. "No more elves with guns, until I feel you have matured enough to handle them. Hand them over. Now." Sullenly, they put their sidearms on the table. "Ianto can train you with stun guns," Jack offered, to placate them. They only started groaning and protesting more.

Ianto, parking the coffee cart, looked shocked, and opened his mouth to refuse. Jack prepared for another argument, but then the manager only said, "Right. I'll be in charge of that. I'll put it on the schedule." So there went that idea into oblivion.

Gwen and Rhys came in, his right wrist bandaged and supported in a sling. Tosh and Owen weren't far behind them. They grabbed some seats and coffees.

"Rhys," Jack said, offering his hand. "You did a fine job. Thank you."

The Welshman seemed surprised by his sincerity. "Um, sure, mate." He awkwardly clasped Jack's hand. "Anything for the team, right?"

Gwen said, "Jack... about earlier, when I asked if the creature - the alien - was sentient. I didn't mean... Well, what I meant was, if it were sentient, if it understood what was happening, wouldn't that make it worse? Than if it didn't think about things...?"

"It could suffer in silence," Ianto asked.

"It would suffer, yes; I'm not denying that, okay? But it would be hurt, and then stop hurting so bad. If it didn't think about the future and know it would be hurt again - it would at least be more of a reprieve."

"Ignorance is bliss?" Jack offered.

Gwen shook her head. "That's not what I meant, either."

Tosh said, "I know what you mean. Anticipation of pain can be just as bad as experiencing it." She subconsciously rubbed her arms.

"What I don't get," said Owen, "is if it could have broken free, why didn't it? Before, I mean."

"Maybe it didn't know it could?" Rhys offered.

"If it was in pain, it would have at least tried to escape it," the doctor countered.

Jack said, "It was the empathy."

They all looked at him.

"It has to be empathic. It reacts to the emotions around it," he explained. "Look, when we arrived, we felt shocked, saddened by its suffering. That's when it began to cry. When the violence erupted-" he shot a glare at the elves- "that's when it began to fight."

"So you're saying...," Ianto started. "Those men, and their uncaring attitude...?"

"They may have done it a favor. They didn't feel anything in regard to what they were doing, and it remained in an uncaring state."

"I don't count that as any favor," Tosh growled.

"True," Jack acknowledged. "But if it had broken free and gone on a rampage..."

"Instilling fear and panic...," Owen added.

"Right. So when we deal with the creature, it's important to remain calm around it."

"Speaking of which," asked the doctor, "what are we going to do with it?"

"Where are we going to keep it?" Ianto added.

"In the bay," said Jack.

"In the bay?" chorused Gwen, Tosh, and Rhys.

Jack nodded. "It's heavy and awkward on land, but the water will help support it. Water is most likely it's natural habitat."

"That makes sense," the doctor admitted.

"But in the bay?" asked Gwen. "Won't someone see it?"

Rhys said, "Cardiff could use a tourist attraction, like Nessie." His girlfriend just gaped at him.

Jack tipped his head to the man. "So all we have to do is get it down here."

"Stealthily," said Tosh, with a healthy dose of skepticism.

"Rhys," Jack asked, "do you have anything big enough to haul it?"

"Are you kidding?" His eyes widened. "The thing is longer than even a tandem trailer. Not to mention it's too huge to fit _in_ a lorry. We'd have to strap it on top."

"Maybe a convoy holding up the rear?" Ianto mused.

Tosh said, "But how on Earth would we get it past everyone? Even in the dead of night, people will be out."

"Or woken up by a big lorry rumbling by," Owen added. "Especially one with a 50-tonne beastie, that may be singing, on top of it."

Ianto pursed his lips. "Trying to seed the route with enough retcon for everyone, and making sure they got it; that would be a logistics nightmare."

"Can we disguise it as something?" Jack tossed out.

"Like what?" Ianto asked.

"A giant baguette," Owen said, ever helpful.

"Don't disguise it," Bannon said. "Paint it in bright colours, then parade it through town in the middle of the day with a sign advertising a circus."

"Ah," Zevran waxed, "The Broma Brothers Travelling Circus. How I have..." his face darkened, "utterly not missed _those_ days."

"A publicity stunt!" Tosh exclaimed, and looked at Ianto.

"That's... about crazy enough to work?" The office manager looked at Jack.

He rubbed his chin in thought. "We'd have to arrange the whole cover story... including an entire circus."

Still helpful, Owen said, "I know where we can get some clowns." He pointed at the elves.

Jack looked over at them speculatively.

"Oh, hell no," said Bannon.

"Well, it's either that, or I'll have to suck it up and ask UNIT for a task force with some military helicopters to air-lift the alien." Which would be worse? That, or returning to the circus? He suppressed a shudder.

Tosh said, "I vote for the circus."

Jack didn't blame her. "We'll see. Ianto, draw up a plan and budget for that idea, see how feasible it is or not." Pragmatism would decide their course of action.

Rhys said, "And you'll give us a call if you need those lorries. Y'know, we can get a couple of flatbeds..."

"Good thinking, Rhys. We'll be in touch. For now, you should get home and rest up. You've had a big day." Jack smiled warmly at him.

Rhys grinned back. "You know it. C'mon, Gwen."

Jack gave her a surreptitious signal to hang back. She hesitated, then told her boyfriend, "You go on ahead." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll meet you up in the Plas."

"All right."

Ianto said, "Let me show you out." He left, escorting the Welshman.

Gwen looked askance at Jack. He waited for the door alarm. In the meantime, he looked down at the guns and clips on the table, counting the bullets. Were a few of them missing? Some elves were going to be in for a serious frisking.

Finally, he looked up at Gwen and said, not unkindly, "You have to retcon him, you know."

"Jack." She sighed. "Is that really necessary?"

Owen said, "It's procedure."

"But it's Rhys," Gwen argued. "I know we can trust him."

"It's for his protection as well as ours," Jack quoted the policy line.

Tosh turned to Gwen. "Think about what he's been through. He could have been killed. It's better if he doesn't have to live with that."

Gwen frowned.

Jack stepped forward, the little white pill in his hand extended to her. "Unless you want me to do it?" he asked when she hesitated.

"No, I'll do it."

Jack nodded.

==#==

"I'll never look at the night sky the same way again. Imagine... all that out there... the universe." Rhys squinted up at the sky, the ordinary Earth sky crowded with clouds. But beyond that... lay possibilities unimaginable. "And here, little old me, a part of it!" Gwen looked a bit worried, tapping her fingers against her jeans. "Oh, very little, I know," he reassured her. "A bit of a speck. And don't fret. I won't tell a soul. Who'd believe me, anyhow?" He licked his ice cream cone.

"Now look, you've got it all on you." Gwen fussed with a napkin, dabbing his chin. "You're worse than a four-year-old."

"I do feel like a kid again." He smiled and took the paper napkin from her hand. She smiled back, and they kissed. "Imagine me, black ops. Yeah."

She laughed. "Yeah, Agent Williams, you are."

He finished up the ice cream and then took the napkins to the trash can over on the kerb.

"Hey."

Rhys looked up - it was one of those young fellows, the dark-haired one. Why did Gwen have to work in an organization with such gorgeous slim blokes?

"When you go back," the kid told him, "spill your drink."

"What?" Rhys looked over his shoulder. Gwen was sitting on the steps where he'd left her, his cola next to her feet. She was looking off down the Plas, staring at the water sculpture. Rhys turned back to the kid with a scowl. "What are you saying? Gwen'd drug me?" His voice rose, and he tamped it down.

The dark-haired bloke shrugged. "Just accidentally knock it over."

"You're daft!" He turned away and headed back to Gwen. His Gwenny. He'd known her half his life; she'd never hurt him. "Something wrong, luv?"

She shook herself out of her reverie. "No. No, it's fine. Long day and all." She stood, taking his cup and handing it to him. Her smile seemed shadowed.

Doubt gnawed at Rhys' mind. Mistrust... Damn the bugger, but he would _not_ turn against his Gwen. He loved her, and she loved him. He trusted her.

He brought the cup to his lips.

Suddenly, Gwen knocked it flying; cola sprayed across the steps. The cup bounced lightly after it. "Bloody hell, Gwen!" Rhys shot a look back towards the trash bin, but the kid had vanished. Anger boiled in Rhys' belly. "And what was that, then? Did you just try to drug me?"

"I - No, I -" Gwen shook her head. "Rhys." She took his hands. "Go on home."

"But-"

"I'll explain everything, I promise! Just go on. I have to take care of something."

Rhys hesitated, but her eyes pled softly with him. "Bloody Torchwood," he cursed. "All right, but I'll want the whole truth tonight." Or, he supposed it was time to start looking for his own place. Dammit, he didn't want to lose Gwen now.

"I give you my word, Rhys Williams," she vowed solemnly. That would have to do.

==#==

Jack waited on the computer station floor, following Gwen's progress down to the cog door in his mind. He'd been watching the whole thing on the CCTV. When the door alarms blared, he braced himself.

Gwen stormed in, hair flying back, eyes blazing. "I won't do it, Jack!" she called out across the Hub. "I won't retcon Rhys. He's done a brave and heroic thing today. I can't just take that away from him!"

"I agree," said Bannon from the sidelines. The rest of the Torchwood team had stopped working and gathered around the confrontation.

"No one asked you," Jack snapped at the elf.

Gwen said, "I've known Rhys for years. He's solid, dependable... He's not going to go blabbing about aliens to everyone."

"It's standard security protocol," Jack recited calmly. "It's for everyone's protection."

"Who's he going to tell?" Bannon scoffed.

"You fell through the Rift; apparently that's not all that unheard of on your planet," Jack said, turning to him. "Twentieth century humans aren't ready to handle things like this. Not yet."

"Rhys handled it just fine."

"I agree," said Zevran.

"Don't _you_ start." Jack glared at the elves. Then he turned a hardened gaze on Gwen. "If you're having difficulty complying with my orders..."

"I don't want to disobey orders, Jack. I just want you to ask yourself if it is really necessary." She looked to the others for their opinions.

They stood with Jack. Ianto said, "It is in everyone's best interest. Rhys' included."

And Tosh added, "Do you really want him to be burdened with the things we deal with here?"

Gwen shook her head. "I'm not asking to make him part of the team. Look, none of you has a relationship outside of Torchwood." Jack felt Ianto's look, and Tosh surreptitiously glanced towards the doctor. "Rhys and I are partners. I trust him."

Ianto remained silent, biting his lip thoughtfully.

"Maybe she's right?" Tosh opined.

Owen said, "The protocols are for everyone's safety. That includes Rhys, too."

"When was the last time the protocols were reviewed?" Gwen asked.

"This is not up for discussion," Jack broke in, regaining control.

"Jack, just please consider it a moment."

"Torchwood is not run by committee, it's run by me."

"You're making a mistake," Bannon said, once more cutting in and deflecting his attention on Gwen. "Rhys is a good ally."

Tosh said, "It's not like he's some unknown bloke off the street."

Jack glared over his shoulder. "Okay, shelve it! You-!" He turned on Bannon. "Come here!"

He led the elf off to a sheltered corner beyond the armory. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Bannon's eyes widened. "Ah, I _think_ I have an opinion, just like everybody else."

"You don't even know Rhys."

"And you do? He seems a decent enough guy."

"Don't give me this bullshit! You're just trying to undermine my authority."

"Oh, really?" Bannon threw up his hands. "You think this is about you? Fine. What if you need one of those lorries? How were you going to move that thing? Strap it to the top of your coach?"

Jack scowled. "Torchwood has the authority to commandeer any vehicle we need."

"Yeah, and get a lot of grief. And then have to deal with all these new people. Instead, you could go to one guy who knows the deal, won't ask too many questions, and will keep his mouth shut."

"The risk is too great. The protocols are there to protect the populace as well as us."

"Well, brilliant," the elf snarked. "You know, if he forgets all this, he'll only end up following Gwen to work again. His curiosity will get the best of him, and then he'll start thinking you and Gwen are screwing around. Again. He'll end up in the middle of things - in danger - _again_. By the way," he suddenly dropped as an aside, "are you and Gwen screwing around?"

"No!"

Bannon shrugged. "Well, how many times you want to explain that to the guy? You can't just go poking holes in people's memories whenever you want. He's going to notice something is wrong. You can't steal a person's memories, chunks of their lives, without them getting upset about it."

Jack blanched, then quickly tried to cover it up before Bannon noticed. Was he being a hypocrite? Had he become just like the Time Agency, using rules and tools to protect himself at the cost of other people's lives? He'd lost two years to those bastards. Two years of his life he may never recover.

He slowly clenched his jaw. Then without a word, he turned away from the bewildered elf and marched back to his team.

"Fine," was his final pronouncement. He fixed Gwen with a hard steel gaze. "As long as you realize that letting Rhys retain his heroism also means he has to deal with the trauma as well. Once you let him into our world, even on the fringe, his life, his world, will be forever changed."

She looked at the floor, and he watched her, made sure she was absorbing this.

"And if he can't take it, or if stories of aliens in Cardiff's sewers start making the rounds at the pubs, then it won't be a simple matter to retcon away a few hours. If he goes rogue, we'll have to take away a significant chunk of his life. Do you understand?"

Gwen took her time, which is good. She looked up, her eyes clear, though shadowed. "I understand."

"Think about it on the way home," Jack told her, putting another Retcon pill in her hand.

She nodded, then turned and left.

The captain turned to the rest of his team. "Ianto, you'll supervise Bannon and Zevran in the body retrieval and storage."

The office manager nodded, but Zevran asked, "Body storage?"

Ianto said, "We have a library of pre-deceased persons kept in cryo-storage, in case we ever need to cover anything up with believable human bodies." The elves absorbed that information without any complaint or moral compunctions.

"Tosh," Jack continued, "you should go home to rest. Take tomorrow off, too."

"All I do is sit at the computer all day. I'll be fine."

Owen said, "You should keep it elevated."

And Jack added, "I'll handle scrubbing the identities of the men." That left her nothing to argue with, so she limped over to pack up her things into her purse.

To Jack, Owen said, "I'll need to monitor the creature and it's recovery process. This is going to take a lot of ketamine, to keep it calm."

"We'll get whatever you need."

Owen kept thinking out loud. "Maybe cauterizing would work... but it's so large."

"I'd advise against it. You don't want to interfere with its natural healing process."

The doctor nodded. "I should probably stay on site. I'll pack up a kit." He turned to go.

"I'll assign the elves to assist you," Jack said. He shot a glance at them, but they didn't argue or complain for once. "Just remember, all of you, when you are working with and around this creature, you need to stay calm and avoid any strong emotions it could pick up on."

"No fighting," Owen told the elves. "No griping, no horsing around."

Now Bannon and Zevran started groaning.

"And especially no sexual antics!"

"What?" said Zevran. "It shall be quite relaxed and happy afterwards."

"Zevran!" The doctor whirled on him. "If you make that thing frisky and it tries to hump your leg, it will crush you into a greasy smear. And don't expect me to try to stop it, because Lord knows, I couldn't if I wanted to!" He headed back towards the locker room. "Now help me pack these supplies!"

Muttering between themselves, the elves followed, leaving Jack and Ianto alone for a few minutes.

"Are you sure letting Gwen decide to let Rhys in on Torchwood secrets is the right choice?"

"Are you sure it's not?" Jack countered.

"No..." Ianto shrugged. "Just that it is more complicated. Complicated things have more that can go wrong with them."

"The simple thing - the more convenient thing - isn't always the right thing to do. Gwen is here to work, but also to give us new blood, a fresh perspective."

"The protocols-"

"Were instituted a century ago, and maintained by a power-hungry regime led by Yvonne Hartman. It's about time they were reviewed."

Ianto narrowed his eyes. "Maintained by yourself, as well. Safety of the world at large, all that. The masses aren't ready."

Jack nodded. "Yes, but the Twenty-First century is when they need to get ready. Besides, is she wrong?"

Ianto pursed his lips. "I suppose Rhys is a negligible risk."

"He handled himself well," Jack emphasized his points with a gesture. "He has resources we can make use of without having to make up any cover stories. Besides, if we wipe his memory and he follows Gwen to work again, we'll end up having to do everything all over. That could get tedious." He kept his expression bland while trying to read traces of the thoughts that went on behind the Welshman's eyes.

"That makes sense." Ianto moved to put the guns on his tray in preparation of storing them. "After I've finished with the site clean-up, will you be needing anything else?"

"No, thank you. Go home, get some rest."

"All right, sir." He took his tray out.

Did he seem disappointed? Jack just wanted some quiet time after dealing with the strong emotions the creature had amplified. And there was something nagging at him. _"There's no such thing as Torchwood."_ Who was that man? Jack would have to get ahold of his ID after Ianto brought the bodies in.

== _X_ ==


End file.
